Splinters of Stars
by Alydia Rackham
Summary: Loki's youth was not all shadow. Some of it was bathed in starlight, as he and Thor sat upon the Asbru bridge, inventing the legends of the constellations that tower above the kingdom of Asgard.


During this piece, I listened to "Destiny In Space Theme" and then the Theme from Apollo 13. You should as well.

Credit for the dwarf craftsman Brokk goes entirely to the lovely writer Dragonflyr.

Credit for the inspiration for this piece goes to the artists Kris and Jen, who created the painting of Thor and Loki called "On the rainbow bridge."

And _this_ piece is dedicated to all of you, who have made this journey more than worthwhile.

I love you all.

Splinters of Stars

_"It is not the stars that hold our destiny_

_But ourselves."_

_-William Shakespeare_

Loki sighed, and sat back in his chair. The tall wooden back creaked. He curled his fingers through the fur on the armrests and settled in, reveling in the warmth from the fire in the broad marble hearth in front of him. He stretched out his booted feet toward the flames, setting his heels on the stone. He drummed his fingers, and quietly hummed to himself, glancing up through the darkened rafters of the great hall, listening to the peaceful silence of the sleeping palace. Then, he glanced down, and tapped the sides of his boots against each other.

"Let's see it, then."

Loki's eyebrows went up and he glanced over to his left. Balder hopped up onto a stone stool near the side of the fireplace and canted his golden head, his brilliant, eager blue eyes finding Loki instantly. He wore flowy, comfortable white, as always, bound by a simple leather belt. His boyish features and fair skin glowed in the half-light.

"See what?" Loki feigned casually, pretending to study the ceiling.

"Oh, don't play around," Balder crossed his arms. "You've been bursting to get into it all day long. Driving Brokk half mad, pestering Mumma, staying up until the _end _of the firstwatch tonight to get fitted when you should have waited until tomorrow—"

"End of the second, actually," Loki grinned, sitting forward quickly and twiddling his fingers on the armrests again. "You really want to see it?"

"Stand _up _already!" Balder commanded, huffing. Loki's grin broadened.

"All right," he said dramatically. "Here…it is…"

And slowly, he rose to his feet and faced his brother.

Balder's eyes raced up and down Loki's form. Loki gradually lifted his arms and held them out to his sides, palms up.

"Turn around," Balder instructed quietly. Loki obeyed.

His new, long black riding coat flowed and whispered around his legs as he moved. It was made of the finest, softest leather, edged in silver. Silver also flashed at the wrists of his bracers, at the high collar of his tunic, and across his chest in a wide, straight band that began at his right shoulder and ended at his hip—and this silver had been carved with intricate knotted designs detailing the feats of the house of Borr, and the great seals of Asgard. His silver belt—delicate-but-strong and almost elf-make—crossed his middle above his fitted trousers and new boots. It all fit him perfectly, elegantly, making his slight form appear lean and knife-like. He knew. He had looked at himself in the mirror for an hour already.

He completed his turn, lifting his chin and unable to keep from smirking. Balder flashed his eyebrows, and smirked back.

"All right…" he said. "Let's see the rest of it."

Loki's blood thrilled.

"All right, then," he said. "Prepare yourself."

Balder grinned.

Loki waggled his eyebrows, held his hands out in front of him, and braced his stance like a magician on a stage. He paused, going silent.

Balder waited, motionless.

Loki took a breath—

Kicked back his head—

_Clapped_.

Singing ringing filled the air, like the jingling of water over stones, like a breath of wind through a chime, like an opening door, like children running through a marble hall…

Flashing black mirrors—paper-thin scales and sheets of obsidian hard as steel—bloomed out from the center of Loki's chest and washed up across his shoulders and spilled down his arms, swooping and wrapping tight and artfully around his middle and encircling his neck. A black cape burst from the back of his shoulders and settled restlessly down to the floor, stirring like a flock of crows. A weight rested upon his hair—

And his helmet appeared, crowning his head and enclosing it, and shooting out two graceful, backward-arching horns from its forehead. And he stood, in flashing, regal beauty, unable to keep from smiling like an idiot.

Balder kept smirking.

"I think Brokk likes you better than Thor," he declared.

Loki burst out laughing, lowered his arms and glanced down over himself.

"It is rather splendid, isn't it?"

"Isn't it!" Balder cried, hopping down and coming up to him. He reached out and felt Loki's shoulder pieces, having to stretch up a little, as he was still short. A line formed between his eyebrows as he studied the edges and surfaces. Loki stood still for him, holding his arms out a little so he could see.

"I want one," Balder murmured, taking Loki's right forearm in both hands and turning it over. Loki snorted.

"For what? You aren't interested in anything that even resembles fighting."

"I want to stomp through the house in it," Balder answered matter-of-factly, studying the underneath of the bracer. "So all the girls will follow me around."

Loki shoved him back, laughing again.

"That is _not _a compelling enough reason."

"Yes, it is," Balder retorted. Loki shrugged one shoulder.

"All right, fine, perhaps it is," he allowed. "You won't convince Brokk of that, though."

"_You_ could," Balder folded his arms again.

"I think you overestimate me," Loki replied, crossing his own arms to mirror him.

"No," Balder insisted. "You can do anything."

Loki stopped, blinking. He gazed down at his little brother, who looked frankly back up at him. Loki smiled, laughing softly, and ducked his head.

"I wish _that _were so."

"It is so," Balder insisted. "You are clever, brave—a magician, too; you know everything about the stars and planets—"

"Hardly _everything_—"

"You can ride and shoot and use a sword and knife, and you've memorized the laws and the lineage and the chronicles," Balder went on. He paused, and considered Loki. "You should be a king."

"What?" Loki cried. "I can't—that's Father's job."

"Father's not going to be king _forever_," Balder insisted.

"Then it will be Thor's job," Loki told him. Balder frowned.

"Why?"

"Because he's older."

"How do you know?"

"Because he is!" Loki replied.

"So he'll be king because he's _older_," Balder said flatly.

"Oh, stop," Loki lightly shoved Balder's forehead with his fingertips. "You've known that your whole life."

"Yes, but that rule doesn't make sense to me," Balder said.

"Come now, you know Thor will be a good king," Loki chided him.

"Yes, I _know_," Balder sighed. Then he perked up. "Maybe you could trade! You could be king for a few years, then he could have a turn."

Loki smiled crookedly.

"I appreciate your confidence, but I'd rather not, anyhow." He took a step back and shook his head. "Far too much work. I'd rather spend my time going riding with you."

Balder's head came up.

"Truly?"

"Truly," Loki answered. Balder thought about that a moment, then smiled brightly.

"Maybe Brokk can make me armor for _riding_," he suggested. "Then I can come with you and Thor when you go further out into the wilds."

"Absolutely," Loki nodded. "I'll talk to Thor about it in the morning."

"You don't have to wait until morning," Balder told him casually. "He's walking around in _his_ armor, showing it to the night guards."

Loki laughed hard.

Balder, pleased at the sound, laughed too. Loki reached out and took hold of a fistful of Balder's gold hair and lightly shook him.

"_You _are more trouble than anyone else knows, Bird."

"But what would you do without me?" Balder asked, squeezing one eye shut.

"Perish straightaway," Loki replied.

"You would," Balder agreed.

Loki stepped in and wrapped his arm around his brother's shoulders, ducking his head and pressing the side of his face against Balder's head. The smile fell from his face, and for moment he closed his eyes. Balder encircled Loki's waist with his slender arms, instantly serious as well. For just a heartbeat, they stood still…

"Your armor is very hard," Balder muttered.

"Oh, get away," Loki backed up, put a hand on Balder's face and pushed him. Balder hopped back and stuck his tongue out. Loki flicked his fingers and a spark flashed out and burst in front of Balder's nose. Balder leaped easily out of the way and tossed his head.

"Missed!" he declared.

"Mum is going to get after you about being up so late," Loki warned.

"No, she isn't!" Balder crowed as he danced back toward the door. "She likes me best!"

"Shut up!" Loki called.

"You shut up!"

Loki grinned again, and watched his spritely form disappear into the shadows.

VVV

Loki stepped out from beneath the arches, past the gate, onto the magnificent, narrow stretch of the Asbru bridge. His footsteps rang on the flashing rain bow as he walked, his helmet tucked under his right arm. The gentle, salty wind greeted him, along with the distant cry of gulls. Far below, the gray ocean foamed and roared…

And above, the dome of heaven towered, in never-ending, sparkling, pulsing twinkling glory. He brought his attention down, and scanned the span of the bridge.

There. Striding away from him, new scarlet cape rustling behind him.

"Thor!" Loki called.

Thor spun around. His silver breastplate shimmered, his scale-like mail on his arms winking. Loki stopped. And frowned.

Oddly, instead of a weapon or a ball or a staff in his hand…

Thor carried a _book_.

A _big _book.

Thor grinned, and broke into a trot, coming back toward Loki.

"Hullo!" he called. "Just the man I need!"

"_What _are you doing?" Loki demanded. "It's the middle of the night, and you're out on the Asbru in full dress armor."

"I could say the same of _you_," Thor answered, reaching him and slapping him in the stomach with the back of his hand. His knuckles _clanged._

"_Oof_," Loki buckled and backed up.

"That did _not_ hurt," Thor scoffed. "If it did, you need to trade that armor in."

Loki glared at him and slowly straightened up. Thor turned to the side and considered the skies again, beaming.

"Sowhat are you doing?" Loki asked again, irritated.

"Finishing up a bit of work," Thor answered lightly.

"Work?" Loki repeated. "What work?"

Thor didn't reply—just turned and started striding out across the bridge again.

"You mean your _assignment?_" Loki cried, hurrying after him. "The one that is supposed to be given to the masters _tomorrow?"_

"Yes, that's the one!" Thor said, swinging his arms as he went. Loki had to trot to keep up with him.

"I finished mine _weeks _ago—" Loki said.

"That's because you have nothing better to do than sit in cloisters and scribble on paper."

"Oh, really?" Loki shot back. "And what do _you_ do that's so important? Flirt with girls?"

"_No_," Thor replied. "I do _real _research." Thor stopped abruptly. Loki took three steps back.

"You're not going to dangle your feet over the edge."

"Of course I am," Thor grunted, flopping down on the colorful, flashing surface and swinging his boots out over the abyss. "Why not?"

"Why not?" Loki lifted an indignant eyebrow. "Because it's a thousand foot drop to your death, that's why not—and you don't have Mjollnir."

"Psssshht," Thor waved him off and adjusted his seat. "You are just frightened of heights."

"I am not."

"Yes, you are."

"No, I am not. I don't need to twirl a hammer—I can fly on my own—"

"Then you'll save me if I fall, won't you? Come sit down," Thor challenged, glancing over his shoulder up at Loki. Loki stood with folded arms, a safe distance back from the plunging drop, and the gray, foaming sea far, far below. Thor rolled his eyes.

"You aren't any fun."

Loki's eyebrows shot up.

"Nobody's ever accused me of _that _before."

"Then sit down!"

Loki heaved a sigh, stepped up and sat down to Thor's left, but he did _not _hang his feet over the plunging edge. He set his helmet off to his left, and brought his left knee up, wrapping his arm around it. Then, he lifted his face toward the heavens.

Above and in front them in the fathomless, immortal, unchanging sky—bordered and surrounded by billions of diamond stars—stretched a spectacular nebula, purple and pink in its twinkling depths, its wispy trails—light years long each—curling along behind.

"So, which are yours, then?" Loki asked, glancing at Thor's profile.

"Those there," Thor answered, lifting his right arm and pointing.

"Which?" Loki wondered, tilting toward his brother and following his finger.

"Those, in the middle of the nebula."

"Oh. All twenty of them?"

"Yes."

"And what have you called them?" Loki wondered. Thor flipped the book open in his lap, tossed through a couple pages, then handed it over to Loki. Loki caught it, keeping the pages from flapping in the sea breeze, and studied the ink-drawn illustration on one of the pages: a drawing of two young warriors running. Loki glanced down at the title.

"The Twins," he said.

"Mhm," Thor nodded firmly.

"And…I see the following page is blank," Loki noted. He looked at Thor sideways. "Have you given them a story at _all _yet?"

"Yes, I have," Thor answered indignantly. "I'm just not certain how to end it."

Loki heaved a sigh and shut the book.

"You spent all your time on the drawing, didn't you?"

"I did," Thor said proudly, grinning at him. "It is good, isn't it?"

"It's perfectly adequate," Loki muttered. "For a diagram. And it won't impress the masters—since your assignment was to write a _legend_, not draw a picture."

"_I know that_," Thor shot back.

"I'm not going to make one up for you," Loki warned.

"Of course not!" Thor replied, gazing up at the constellation. "But you can sit here and listen to what I have thus far."

"Fine," Loki muttered, setting the book aside. "Tell me."

"Once upon a time," Thor began grandly. "There were twin princes born to a great king and queen. As the princes grew, it became clear to all that they were both cunning, both excellent warriors, both brave and true. Their father the king loved them both the same, and when it came time for him to step down, he could not bear handing the throne to one son simply because he was a few moments older than the other. So, he commissioned a special arrow to be made—the lightest, swiftest, surest arrow ever made, and of pure enchanted gold at that. Then, he brought his sons to the highest tower in the palace, and took out his great and legendary bow—a bow that could shoot farther than any bow ever built, and shot the enchanted golden arrow out into the wild regions of the forest mountains. And he told his sons 'Whichever of you brings me back that golden arrow shall have the throne.'"

Thor stopped. Loki pulled his attention down from the spectacular nebula and its winking stars, and looked over at Thor.

"And?" he pressed. Thor shrugged.

"That's all I have," he admitted. "I don't know what they should do from there."

"Well, it's obvious, isn't it?" Loki frowned. "For a man who claims to love his sons equally, the king is rather a bad father."

"What?" Thor turned to him, surprised.

"Look at what he's done," Loki pointed out. "He's just set formerly-harmonious brothers at odds with each other. Now, they must compete against each other for their father's approval and for the throne. Which…I have to admit, makes a…compelling story."

"Does it?" Thor sounded pleased. Loki shrugged, and nodded reluctantly.

"Yes, fine, be proud of yourself," he said flatly.

"I am," Thor grinned.

"Anyway," Loki sighed. "Your conclusion is simple."

"It is?" Thor's brow furrowed as he listened.

"Yes," Loki assured him. "The brothers will start out on horseback, at a clip, racing each other. Of course, they'll go their separate ways fairly early on. But along the way, they'll fall into various encounters—you can decide those later—that make them even angrier and more jealous of each other. Sometimes they will even fight, over food or water, or the horses. By the time they reach the arrow, they are bitter enemies." Loki lifted one shoulder. "You will have to make one brother, of course, be uglier to the other, so that one brother comes out as the hero. They'll come upon the arrow at the same time, and they will fight there. The better brother will kill the wicked one, retrieve the arrow, return home, and claim the throne. The end."

Thor didn't say anything. Loki waited, accustomed to the fact that Thor usually had to let things settle in.

But suddenly, Thor huffed, shook his head, and lay down on his back.

"That is a terrible story."

Loki's eyebrows shot up.

"What—it _is not._"

"Yes, it is," Thor insisted, pillowing his head in his hands. "Why would anyone want to hear that story?"

"It's tragedy," Loki pointed out. "It happens all the time."

"Yes, but who wants to hear about it?" Thor objected. He frowned like a storm cloud, staring up at the nebula, his jaw tight. Loki folded his arms, glaring at him and then looking away, out over the sea, mentally cursing his lunk-headed brother…

"…they _did_ fight along the way," Thor murmured—and Loki blinked.

"They _were_ jealous, and quarreled over everything from the horses to the berries growing alongside the road," Thor went on. "But when they came upon the place where they both knew the arrow had landed…it was not there."

Loki blinked again. And halfway turned toward his brother. Thor gazed distantly up at the heavens. When he spoke, his voice was even and deep—and it captured Loki.

He listened.

"The brothers instantly began to look for signs of the golden arrow—and together, from the deep marks in the earth and the singed treetops, they discovered that a dragon lived nearby. The dragon had found the arrow, and, coveting gold, had taken it into his lair."

Loki tilted toward Thor, frowning in concentration. Thor went on.

"The brothers realized that they had no hope of regaining that arrow unless they fought the dragon together. They agreed to do this, and entered the dragon's cave. Together, they battled the massive beast bravely—and much more fiercely than they would have if each had been alone. They found the arrow amongst the other gold and jewels, and were nigh to taking it and escaping…"

Thor paused. Loki held his breath.

"When the dragon struck one brother with his mighty claws, and killed him."

Alarm flashed through Loki's chest. He shifted toward Thor.

"And what happened then?" he asked.

"The remaining brother, filled with grief and rage, killed the dragon in a single blow, and took up the golden arrow," Thor continued. "But he could not return to his kingdom with such a heavy heart. And so, he journeyed further, deeper into the wild, through many trials and sufferings, until he found a witch who told him the way to the gates of the Underworld. He went down, down, and there, in a house of bones, he found the Mistress of the Dead. He told her that she held his brother captive—and he offered her the enchanted arrow in exchange for his brother's life. The Mistress of Death was fascinated by this arrow, for it was so very light, yet made of pure gold. She accepted, and released his brother's soul. The living brother then left the cave and returned to the dragon hoard to find his twin waiting for him. They embraced. And in stride, they returned to the palace and declared to their father that they would rule together, or not at all. The end."

Loki swallowed. He couldn't summon anything to say.

Thor prodded him with his finger.

"You like it?"

Loki grunted.

"It's better, isn't it?" Thor poked him again.

"_Yes_," Loki finally barked. "Yes, it's a better story."

"Come. Lie down and look at this," Thor urged.

"I don't want to."

"Lie down," Thor grabbed his arm and tugged. Loki gave way and flopped down beside him, straightening his legs and crossing his arms across his chest.

"You want to know how I thought of it?" Thor asked.

"Enlighten me," Loki muttered.

"See the nebula where the stars are?"

"Of course."

"See? It's shaped like a dragon's head," Thor pointed again. "Like a dragon who's been sleeping in his gold and jewels, so they've crusted all over his scales."

Loki stared, his lips parting. How had he never seen that before…?

"Yes," he murmured. "It does."

"The Twin Kings. That's what I'll call it," Thor declared. "Thank you, Loki."

"I didn't do anything," Loki reminded him.

"Yes, you did," Thor replied. "You made it so I _had _to fix your terrible story."

"It wasn't _that _terrible."

"Yes, it was."

Loki's mouth twitched.

"All right, yes it was."

Thor chuckled—a roll of thunder.

Loki grinned.

For a long while, they just gazed up at the never-ending, never-changing depths of the sky, listening to the distant roar of the ocean, lulled by the gentle breeze and the cry of the gulls. Loki stretched, his arms relaxing as he blinked slowly.

"I could fall asleep out here," Thor murmured.

"And roll off into the ocean?" Loki answered drowsily.

"Meh," Thor shrugged. "There are worse ways to die."

"Yes," Loki sighed, his eyes drifting shut. "I suppose so."

And, with the salty air caressing their hair, and the stars twinkling above them, the two of them slid into slumber. And as they did, their new armor jingled, sparkled and disappeared, leaving their cloaks to pillow their noble young heads, as the ancient brilliance of the Asbru bridge cradled both of them in its warm, stable, eternal embrace.

FIN

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